


Follow Me Into The Jungle

by leonshardt



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonshardt/pseuds/leonshardt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic charges into battle like he’s going to live forever: young and reckless and too wild to ever really burn out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow Me Into The Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> that one part from [this lovely fanart](http://shoguru.tumblr.com/post/83452060997) by shoguru

 

Medic charges into battle like he’s going to live forever: young and reckless and too wild to ever really burn out. He’s like a supernova, brilliant as starlight, and standing beside him Heavy never quite feels like they’re stitched from the same material.

 

 

_“Go on without me,” Heavy says, sliding down steel sheeting while clutching his side. Rivulets of blood seep through between his fingers, and even as Medic tries to staunch the bleeding Heavy can feel his consciousness fading fast._

_“No,” Medic says. “I will wait for you.”_

_“But Doktor—“_

_“I will always wait for you.”_

 

 

They meet for the first time when Heavy is thirty-three and Medic is thirty-six, and all things considered, it was a meeting that could have gone better.

 

It is cold in the patient waiting room, and Heavy looks up nervously as the doctor walks in with his physical exam results.

“Good news,” the doctor says, glancing up from his clipboard. “You are perfectly healthy!” The doctor speaks with a recognizable German accent, and he addresses Heavy with an air of cheeriness that can’t be entirely professional.

“Oh,” Heavy says. “That is good.”

The doctor walks closer, still smiling, until he’s almost leaning over Heavy, resting one hand on his thigh. “Welcome to Reliable Excavation Demolition,” he says quietly, staring unblinkingly at Heavy.

“Doktor?” Heavy says, confused, and then Medic closes the distance between them with a kiss.

Heavy flinches, confused and startled, and in the split second  _oh-god-what-is-happening_ panic of his mind he automatically draws back his fist and punches the doctor in the face.

There’s a _crack_ and then a spurt of hot blood: Medic stumbles back like he’d been shocked. Then he very carefully he touches his nose with one gloved hand and inspects the blood running down his fingers with a sort of detached fascination.

“Ouch,” he says, very calmly, and then Heavy flees.

 

  

Medic discards his innocence like so much unwanted baggage, and it doesn’t take long for Heavy to follow suit. Medic talks like he doesn’t care who’s listening, like he’s only speaking for his own benefit, forever lost in his own vast mind.

“It’s a device that projects invulnerability to the target,” Medic explains one day, grasping the base of Heavy’s cock with one gloved hand. Heavy moans, tangling his fingers in Medic’s hair impatiently.

“Doktor,“ he pants, “Please—“

“It would make victory irrelevant,” Medic whispers, eyes shining with ferocious intensity. “Don’t you see? I could make _gods_.” Heavy howls as Medic dips his mouth down on hard flesh, rolling his hips forward into the inviting heat.

 _Imagine what we could do with this_ , Medic murmurs, _Imagine what we could accomplish together._

Heavy comes apart in a shuddering wreck, pupils blown and mouth open, gasping Medic’s name like a prayer.

 

 

(Medic is always talking, and even if he never realizes it, Heavy is always listening.)

           

 

“There’s so much out there,” Medic says one day, pondering over dinner. “There’s so much left in the universe to discover. Just imagine! We die _every day_ , and yet somehow we are still alive. It’s impossible, but we have made it possible. What other impossibilities could we accomplish with this kind of technology?”

Heavy hums, not looking up from his soup. “Da,” he says, “Tell me when you find out.”

Medic grins, all pointed teeth and fierceness. “Of course.”

 

 

Maybe this is Happily Ever After, Heavy thinks. An eternal war does not end well for most people, but they are not most people.

Sometimes at night Heavy will talk in his native tongue to the sleeping Medic beside him, muttering the syllables gently as to not wake him up.

 _I think I found something worth fighting for_ , he whispers, _And I hope it doesn’t leave me in search of something fantastic._

 

 

Heavy thinks of retirement, sometimes. Thinks of returning back to Russia with Medic, introducing the doctor to his mother, letting his sisters coo over him like birds. It’s just a stupid pipe dream, he knows: he’s got war permanently etched into his bones like a tattoo, and Medic… Medic isn’t the kind to ever settle down. Not for retirement, and not for Heavy.

“You don’t have to humor me, you know,” Medic says, his voice is indistinct among the sounds of explosions and gunfire.

“I do not know what you mean,” Heavy says, spinning up his gun.

“Oh, of course you do!”

“No,” Heavy says. “I really do not.”

 

 

Years later when Redmond and Blutarch Mann are dead and the mercenaries are asked by Saxton Hale to fight in yet another war, Heavy and Medic say _Yes_ immediately, both at the same time without hesitation.

“This war is crazy,” Heavy says afterwards, “And it makes us crazy.” Medic laughs at that, pressing darting little kisses on the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, Liebling,” he says, “We were already crazy to begin with.”

Heavy is forty-five and Medic is forty-eight, and they’ve been together for so long that if Heavy closes his eyes in the middle of battle, he can almost believe that they really are going to live forever. He lets Medic shove needles into him, cut him open and reach into his insides to pull out his still-beating heart, and it never hurts quite as much as he expects it to.

See, _Love_ was always a confusing word to them, not really a term present in either of their lexicons, but it’s the closest thing to whatever it is they have. Heavy wanted Medic and Medic wanted the world, and Heavy hopes that someday his Doktor will slow down just enough to let him catch up, just enough so that they can stand side by side, just enough so they can walk together hand in hand and watch the sun rise over the desert.

In the end, Heavy is happy with what he’s got, and even if the war is crazy, it’s the kind of crazy that he gets to live through with Medic.

 

“ _Go_!” Medic shouts, motioning at Heavy. “I’ll be right behind you!” He pulls on his medigun by the locker, slinging the pack over his back.

Heavy waits by the door as Medic runs up to him, pushing him forward in a familiar wave of impatience.

Heavy smiles.

“We go together, Doktor.”

 


End file.
